


Alone, but... Well, Alone

by Highlander_II



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, Community: btvs_santa, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-30
Updated: 2004-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-07 19:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/pseuds/Highlander_II
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "Tabula Rasa", Tara and Xander talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone, but... Well, Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://remember-nomore.livejournal.com/profile)[**remember_nomore**](http://remember-nomore.livejournal.com/) for [](http://community.livejournal.com/btvs_santa/profile)[](http://community.livejournal.com/btvs_santa/)**btvs_santa** 2004\. Joss Whedon gets the credit for the characters and the situations leading up to this. I only get credit for writing the 'what if...' in between episode scenes.

Tara, hands in her pockets, walked past the coffee shop, not even stopping to glance at it. She kept walking; down the alley, to the Bronze. After the events of the last few days and her bout of crying the night before, she needed something else. The Bronze seemed a good option. Except – she had to hope the other Scoobies would not be there. That thought almost sent her running back home, but she wanted to be surrounded by the din of the crowded club.

She paid the cover charge and went inside, trying to hug the shadows as she made her way to the bar. The bartender slid her drink across the bar to her in exchange for her money. She collected her glass and found a secluded, dark place to sit and nurse her drink. Apparently it was not 'Scooby Night' at the Bronze. She sighed and settled into the couch beneath the stairway, crossed her legs and watched the band.

A hint of a shadow fell over her for a moment before she felt the other side of the couch dip as someone sat down beside her. She almost bolted off the couch in an annoyed pout and her desire to be alone, but surrounded, but she shot a glance at the newcomer first. "Xander?"

There was a grumpy frown on his face when he turned to her. "Hey, Tara. Leave me alone."

"No problem." She turned back to her drink, complying with Xander's request. More than willing to leave him to his grumpiness, as long as he left her to her sadness.

"I'm sorry, Tara," she heard him say, as he placed a hand on her arm.

It tingled – her arm where his hand was. She looked up from her drink and met his eyes. "Oh, it's okay. I came here to be alone with a hundred other people too."

The sad look in his eyes told her he understood how she felt, what she meant. "Yeah." He shifted on the couch and drew one leg up to fold under the other so he could face her. "How do these things keep happening to us?"

She shrugged. She really had no idea. She was not even sure she wanted to try to figure it out. At least now she had someone to share some thoughts with – if she could ever get that far.

"Right. I chock it up to life on the Hellmouth." There was a slight, but dramatic pause, "Or... the bad luck of Xander Harris. Yep, that's it. I just have rotten luck."

A worried look on her face, she turned to him. "What? Xander, I thought the wedding plans were coming along?"

"Oh they are, but see, they're coming along great without me. Yeah. Actually, she's out right now, planning something that I'm going to have to love or she'll be upset." His hands flailed as he spoke, but he managed not to spill either his drink or hers. Talented, that Xander.

"Why aren't you with her?"

"Because…" his face and arms fell. "I really don't know why. She didn't ask me to go, I guess."

Tara just sipped her drink and watched him for a moment. "You're worried about the wedding?"

Xander nodded. "More now that this whole thing with Willow is going on." His head snapped up. "Oh, I'm sorry," he winced.

"It's okay. I worry about her." She lowered her head, ready to cry.

A gentle hand wrangled her drink free and moved it aside, then a gentle arm pulled her close; into a soft, warm, friendly hug. Then, she did cry. The strong masculine body holding her was different, but it was Xander – her friend.

"It's okay. Just cry," she heard him whisper to her as his arms tightened around her.

She had not expected this – someone to talk to. Her plan had been to sit at The Bronze, alone and mope over her drink. But there was Xander, wandering in, all co-mopey, sitting next to her. Slowly, she tilted her head up, moving until her lips found his, relishing the fact that he did not move away. There was no reason for it – or was there? She needed something. Comfort maybe. A friend. And Xander was both. He rested his hand against her cheek and stroked tears away once the kiss ended.

Tara wiped a hand over her eyes and under her nose. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." When she looked up, Xander was smiling. "What?"

"Nothing. It's fine. You wanna take a walk?"

She nodded. _A walk would be great._

*****

"Well, what have we here? Two lost lovebirds."

"Go away, Spike," Xander snapped and slid a protective arm around Tara's shoulders.

Tara glared at the vampire. "And we're not lovebirds."

"I didn't say you were in love with each other."

_Oh._ Tara looked away, sheepish.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Xander nearly growled.

Spike lit a cigarette and blew smoke at Xander's face. "Waiting on Slayer. S'posed to kill stuff."

"B-Buffy's patrolling?" Tara stuttered – first time she had done that in a while.

Spike shrugged. "What she told me." He looked at Tara, then Xander. "Funny she didn't ask you along. You have a mutiny?"

"What?" Xander snapped. "No. I'm walking her home."

"Right. I'll leave you to that." Spike turned to head in the other direction.

"Xander, stop him," Tara whispered.

"What? No. Let him go."

"No, get him to walk with us."

Xander sighed. "Fine." Then he spoke up. "Hey, Bleached Wonder, wanna come with and keep the evil nasties away?"

Without turning around, Spike replied, "No thanks. Wouldn't want to get in the way."

Tara raised her head and Xander was gaping at the retreating vampire. Then he asked, "What the hell was that all about? Get in the way of what?"

"Xander, just walk me home."

*****

"You can have a seat wherever," Tara announced as she pushed the dorm room door open and switched on a light.

Her room was layered in soft dark colors and Christmas lights. She liked the lights – especially at night – because they reminded her of the stars. She could lay in bed and just watch them twinkle.

"Nice. Don't think I've been here before." Xander looked around, taking in the room a bit before finding a place to sit.

She smiled back at him and pushed the door closed. "Not since I just moved in last week."

"Right. I knew that."

She crossed to the bed and sat, cross-legged, facing him. "Thanks for walking me back."

"Sure. I'm sorry things didn't work out for you and Willow. But, if it helps, I think you did the right thing."

A sad smile played on her lips. "Thanks."

Xander shifted in the chair; she could tell he was anxious about something. Then he asked, "Have you ever kissed a guy before? I mean, before tonight?"

She smiled, a small shy smile, but enough to show she was not angry at his question. "Yeah. A couple times. In high school."

"When did you, you know, decide that you prefer girls?" He twitched and shifted so much, she would have thought he was waiting his turn at the dentist.

A shrug. "Don't know. I don't think it was something I really decided, so much as considered."

"Oh. So, you, um… ever… you know… do anything else?"

"With a guy?" She prompted and he nodded. She shook her head. "Not really. But, Xander, aren't you still getting married?"

"Sure. To an ex-demon who mostly just wants to have sex," he replied, flippant.

"Do you really think that?"

"Yes." A pause. "No." Another pause. "I don't know. Sometimes, yeah," he moved to sit next to her on the bed, "I really do, but others – no. I think she really loves me."

She shrugged a shoulder. "Buffy thinks you two have a miraculous love."

Xander snorted. "That's because we've survived three apocalypses and her relationships barely survive one."

Tara shied away. "We probably shouldn't be alone together."

"Probably not, but it's better than being alone separately."

Lifting her head, she could see the loneliness in his eyes. Xander, there, engaged to Anya, but still lonely. Then, he kissed her. His warm mouth covered hers, his rough, construction-worker hands brushed over her mostly-bare shoulders and she shivered at the sensation. Tingles ran all up and down her spine, then, when he tried to pull away, she pulled him back to her. He was right – better to be alone together.

She parted her lips, let him in, let him taste. All the emotion poured out into the kissing and touching. She traced her fingers down his chest, grabbed his shirt and held it in her hands. His fingers, she felt them slide into her hair, holding her mouth against his as his kiss intensified. She wanted it - him - more.

He pulled away just a little and seemed ready to speak, but she beat him to it. "I want to touch you," she said, softly and caught the confused gape on his face. "Touch. I want to touch you." To illustrate, she released his shirt, then pushed her fingers beneath it, rubbed and scratched at the skin. She listened to him moan and waited for him to do something.

Xander tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Her hands were on him again – scratching, pressing, feeling. Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his chest – tasting and kissing and licking the smooth skin. "Is this how all lesbians get their lovers worked up?" he asked her.

She giggled at him – especially when he clapped a hand over his mouth. Then, very sultry, she said, "No. Sometimes we do this…" and she snaked her tongue into his ear, down his jawline, then into his mouth, tweaking one of his nipples at the same time.

"Oh, yeah. Okay. I think I want to be a lesbian," he panted.

"Sure, we'll sign you up. _After_ your lesson." And her smile is laced with a lusty-undertone.

"Oh. I'm getting a lesson now?"

"Of course. If you're going to be a lesbian, you'll need to know the basics." She gave him a saucy grin. She had no idea why she suddenly wanted to let Xander touch her and taste her, but the thought of his head between her legs was making her wish she had worn a skirt instead of the blue jeans.

"Basics, right. So… um…" He sat there, a little nervous, perhaps, or just as shocked as she was.

She placed a hand against his chest and smiled at him. "A pre-test. Where would you start with your girlfriend? Assuming we're past the kissing part."

"Okay," he managed and swallowed hard, before he reached out to unbutton her blouse. "Is this… I mean… is this all right?"

She nodded, encouraging him. He was so gentle and careful as he unbuttoned and removed her shirt, exposing the dainty, lacy bra beneath it. Gently, he grazed his hands up her sides to cup her breasts. Her breathing started to increase, pushing toward panting. She wanted him to continue, to take off her bra and her jeans. "Xander," she moaned softly.

He glanced up from her chest to her face, then put his arms around her to guide her to lay on the bed. Slowly, he removed her shoes and jeans, tracing lines up her legs, toward her hips. He tugged her toward the edge of the bed as he knelt on the floor. "How'm I doing so far?" he asked, his voice quietly nervous.

"Perfect," she replied and guided his hands to the stretch of soft fabric covering the sensitive area between her legs. He took the hint and pressed his fingers against her body, through the cotton. She tensed and gasped at the contact, but encouraged him to continue.

As one of his fingers slid beneath the cotton, she gasped again, then moaned; the touch so intoxicating. She latched her fingers into the waistband of her panties and started trying to wriggle out of them.

Xander placed a kiss on the inside of her left thigh, then took over removing her panties. Her legs were smooth and soft and he positioned himself between them, stroked a finger lightly over her, then leaned forward to do the same with his tongue.

Tara almost screamed in pleasure at the sensation. The feel of his warm tongue coming into contact with her body; his not-so-recently shaven cheeks scratching at her skin; his calloused hands rubbing up and down her legs. She wanted it to go on forever; to feel all of it, like she was the only thing that mattered.

She had never had a guy do this before and it was so very different from the girls. Not that one was better than the other – just that this was different. The rough skin and bristly whiskers, the musky scent, the stronger hands… she took in everything, every sensation.

He pulled his head away, breathing hard, and crawled up to place a warm, wet kiss on her belly. Sometime while he was working his mouth on her, he had removed the rest of his own clothes; she could feel the lack of denim on his hips as he moved. His kisses reached the space between her breasts and she could feel him harden against her.

"Um, Xander." She put her hands on his shoulders, pushing a little.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered as he reached her neck with his lips.

She swallowed hard. This was beyond new. This was… Xander. "Uh… but… what…" A firm finger over her lips stilled her voice.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop."

She shook her head. "Please, no. Don't stop."

"Have you done this before?"

Another shake of her head. "But I want to. I want you."

Xander's lips curled into a small smile. Then, he kissed her full on the mouth. He leaned into her ear and asked if she was ready. She nodded her head, she was more than ready.

Tara rolled her head back and pushed her fingers into Xander's hair as he entered her, slowly. He was gentle, but it still hurt and she tried to hold in a small cry of pain. Then there was a soft, comforting voice in her ear, telling her everything was okay, that if she wanted to stop, they could.

Again, she shook her head. "No. I don't want to stop." Then she kissed him.

The sensation of his body moving against hers was electrifying. His hands on her hips and legs and sides were seeking out places to tease her to shivers of pleasure. She touched him too – his arms, his back, his sides – whatever she could reach; even boldly grabbing his ass.

He nuzzled his face against her neck and she felt his body tense. She wrapped her legs around his hips and sifted her fingers into his hair, tossed her head back and squeezed her eyes shut.

Xander rolled over and she rolled with him to rest her head on his shoulder, both of them breathing heavily. The room, other than that, was quiet and they drifted off to sleep.

*****

Tara woke to a mostly empty bed. She sat up, the sheets falling to her waist, and looked around for Xander. She spotted him sitting in the chair he had occupied the night before. He had put his pants back on and appeared to be staring at her. She blushed and yanked the sheets back over herself.

"I'm sorry, Tara," he said softly, his eyes focused and unblinking.

"W-why?" she asked.

"This was wrong. We really shouldn't have done that." He shook his head as he spoke.

She blinked and lowered her head. "Yeah. Probably."

Xander sighed as he pushed from the chair. "I really am sorry." Then he turned to leave.

"I'm not."

"What?" he asked over his shoulder.

"I'm not sorry." She averted her eyes. "Maybe it wasn't the best, but it was… comforting. Maybe it was just something we needed. Just for a moment."

"Yeah. Maybe." He turned again.

"Xander," she called and waited for him to turn back, "I hope you and Anya are happy together." It was genuine, the sentiment, the smile, even the small tear that fell down her cheek as Xander pulled the door closed behind him. She hoped they would be happy – because someone on the Hellmouth should be.


End file.
